Unbreakable Yet Broken
by Curious Calamity
Summary: "Shitty hair," Bakugou said, quieter. Leaning over, careful not to shift Kirishima too much as he moved his shoulder, he brushed a hand against his face, cupping his cheek and gazing into his eyes as they sat in silence once more. He Worry, frustration, vain, and sincerity all mixed within those scarlet eyes, swirling as if clouded- conflicted. "You're unbreakable."
1. Chapter 1

_**A/n: This is another old fic of mine lmaoo. Sorry for any errors!**_

_**Please review! It makes my day and inspires me to keep writing!**_

_**I hope you enjoy!**_

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It was chaos.

He stood in the middle of a courtyard, watching from the sidelines. Rubble was scattered across the silver tiled floor, shining menacingly in the pale light. But they weren't the only things in the room. Fatgum stood front and center, clothing and ragged from facing off against the too villains in front of him. He was grinning, but it didn't take a genius to tell that he was breaking down- that he was losing this fight.

The two villains stood strong, using their offensive and defensive attacks accordingly. With every punch thrown, a shield was there to deflect. For every attempt at dodging, a first was already flying to meet your face. It was supposed to be 2 on 2- they were supposed to be winning.

Yet there he was.

Blood is spattered across the battlefield, yet he Kirishima finds himself frozen on the sidelines, legs collapsed out from underneath him, a puddle of blood pooling around him from the gash on his stomach.

Shit, this wasn't good. Any of it. From in front of him, he struggled to hold his head up, his right eye sealed shut from the trickle of blood that flowed down from his forehead. Fatgum was grinning, but it wasn't a happy grin. his hoodie torn as he continues to take every hit that Rappa, the villain, continued to dish out, the said villains shoulders rotating around at nearly incomprehensible speed, each and every punch backed by another as they rammed down on Fatgum.

"Shit," though the words were muttered, Kirishima could hear the desperation in Fatgum's voice as the pro hero took a step forward, only to be pushed back by the barrier that Tengai put up. He found that whole tactic unmanly. They were using hit and run tactics, and, though he did know they were villains, who tended not to follow the whole 'honor' concept, he found it pathetic.

Fatgum somehow managed to dish out a punch, the force of it resounding off of the barrier that tengai put up. Defense and offense against a single, beat down person. It looked hopeless. But he still couldn't fucking move.

_Do something! There's gotta be something that you can do!_ he feels the doubt swirling inside him. Gritting his teeth, red eyes narrowing as he fights the urge to just curl in on himself- to quit. No- He _can't_ do that.

He takes a step forward, hand clutching at the torn skin on his limp arm, barely aware enough to be able to register the feeling of blood seeping between his clenched fingers. Fuck, this isn't good- but he had to keep moving. Fatgum's going to die if he doesn't fucking move, and it'll be all his fault.

_Fuck, _he drags himself forward. It's quite pitiful really, but it's all he do as he tries to continue moving- tries to continue fighting. Is this really all he could do? He dragged himself up step by step, each movement sending a burst of pain through the entirety of his body. From in front of him, Fatgum and the villains are still fighting, both of which looking worse for the wear after each hit. Fatgum is panting, his balloon like form shrinking each and every time he has to use his stored fat in order to survive a hit. _Fuck_, Kirishima thinks, watching as Fatgum is able to take more hits without breaking, _am I really this useless when my armors down? Useless enough that I can't even fucking help?_ He grits his teeth and drags himself closer, legs throbbing from underneath him. Another hit will probably kill him, but goddamnit. He has to try.

_"You're unbreakable."_ those words- **his** words, echo through his mind, and, though he feels like he could give up then and there. He knows he _can't_.

Bakugou believes in him, and, if Bakugou does that, it means that he's worth something, right? Pushing himself to his feet, he feels adrenaline pump through his veins, each and every surge of pain accompanied with an energy that he hadn't felt before. Fists clenched, he takes a step forward, body beginning to harden to deflect the numerous pieces of falling rubble that erupted out of the tunnels from their fight.

He wonders how Midoriya's doing, as he and Eraserhead must be fighting in these same tunnels. But it's not about them right now; he has to fight.

He steps forward once more, his entire body screaming- his veins burning. He stretches out a hand, hardened, ready to deflect-

But, before he could reach him, Rappa attacks, his punch piercing through Fatgum's body with a final blow.

**_"No!"_**

It was as if time had stopped. Fatgum stared down at the hole in his body, eyes wide as he realizes that, this time, his quirk wasn't enough to save him.

It was like something out of a movie, where a side character falls to their knees, only able to stare at the wound as life begins to ebb out of them through the color red. And once again, in his fully hardened state, Kirishima can't move, finding himself frozen, lungs aching, as he watched the scarlet pour from the hole in Fatgums chest.

Kirishima had always liked the colour red, and not because it was the colour of love either. It was the colour of passion, of strength, of warmth, of determination, of- well, a lot of things. But, (Kaminari really needed to stop bullying him about this) he's still not as big as a fanboy as Midoriya, also because of colour that his idol -Crimson Riot- had based his entire stature based off of. And honestly, with his hella red hair, its safe for Kirishima to say that red is a manly color.. But now, he's being pulled in two, because doesn't want this- any of it. He wants to pull some of the broken glass from his chest for him to see, because if anyone prettiness the meaning of how the blood is scattered across the broken pieces, sending flickers of light into the unknown, it would be Bakugou.

But it's unavoidable, that getting involved would inevitably leave him bleeding in front of someone, and he's not prepared for that, not now, not ever. But now, he's forced to face that reality. Once Fatgum collapses, the spell that had rendered him frozen- something that seems to be brought on by his own fear- seems to be broken.

"Fatgum!" he scrambles over to his mentor, the battle forgotten as he cradles the pro heroes still form. Fatgum didn't move, yet his eyes were open, black, blank, lifeless. He was dead. Holy shit, his mentor was dead.

"A respectable fighter. Too bad that he wasn't strong enough," Rappa grinned, a his clenched fist coming to pound at his open hand, "I would say the same about you, if you had actually fought."

"You bastard!" Kirishima felt the blood rushing out from his own wounds, but he can't find it in himself to care. He clenched his fists, trying his best to ignore the fact that they were covered in red- in the blood of his mentor- his friend. Trying to ignore the fact that he had failed Fatgum, and now, with him unable to fight for himself or anybody, he was about to fail the world.

"How dare you!" he takes a step forward, ignoring the pain. No one fucks with his friends and gets away with it. He can't let himself be useless again. He has to do this. He has to. But that doesn't shake off the fear that lay within his heart as Rappa pulls his fist back, clearly ready to strike.

He summons his unbreakable form, but, with his injuries, its hard. And shit- just what has he gotten himself into- why did he think that he could do this- The fist draws closer to his face, and Kirishima closes his eyes, ready, bracing himself.

"Kirishima!" But then, another was there, the light amidst the dark as he deflected the attack, sending various explosions towards the villains. Strong hands lock around his torso, and Kirishima is thrown backwards, skidding against the remnants of an explosion. Rappa's hit never comes. Opening his eyes, Kirishima finds himself in a room of smoke, the battle paused as both parties seek to orientate themselves.

"Come on, let's get the fuck out of here," a rough voice sounds from next to him, and Kirishima recognizes it almost immediately. Red eyes meet his own, and relief floods into Kirishima's mind.

_Bakugou _

He didn't know how the blond was here, or how he knew about this whole mission. But he was there, and for that Kirishima couldn't be more grateful.

When Kirishima didn't move, Bakugou took charge. The other boy grabbed his hand, ready to pull him away, but he can't leave. Not yet. He can't leave Fatgum there, even if he is, well- "We can't leave Fatgum here!" He says, honestly exhausted. How long had they been here? He didn't know. But he was tired. He couldn't handle all of this. But he had to.

"We have to," Bakugou says gravely, eyes darting to where the still, orange figure of Fatgum lay, a ring of scarlet surrounding him. He wanted to throw up at the sight, but he had to stay strong for Kirishima. But as Kirishima planted his feet into the ground, ready to protest even if he was exhausted, Bakugou decided to just say 'fuck it.'

Scooping Kirishima up in his arms, Bakugou ran, fully prepared to get the hell out of there. Kirishima claws at Bakugou's arms, ignoring the stabs of pain when his sensitive and torn hands grip around the rough material of Bakugou's gauntlets. But he can't stop, not when his eyes are trained on the still figure behind them, growing smaller and smaller with each step taken away. Fuck, they really had to retreat- they _lost_.

Setting Kirishima down gently in the ground, Bakugou is staring at the hallway leading back to the room that held Rappa and Tengai, fists clenched in apprehension as he awaits the threat beyond. They didn't have much time, and if he wanted Kirishima to be safe, he'd have act now.

"Bakugou," the words were whispered as Kirishima looks down at his hands, feeling sick as they were covered in red- a constant reminder of just what he had seen- who he had just seen died- just who he had failed.

"He's dead, Bakugou." He can't seem to shake off the shock that had managed to settle itself into his bones. He's sure that he looks like a mess, bloodstained, _shocked_. There was no way out of it. He hears Bakugou take a deep breath from beside him. He barely feels the other boy coming to a crouch next to him, a warm and careful hand reaching out and tracing over a scar on his forearm before he began to speak:

"Kirishima, listen to me." Red eyes lock with his own, and, not for the first time, Kirishima finds himself being pulled into those scarlet depths. "I know you've just seen a hell of a lot, but we can't just give up here," Kirishima wants to ask just why he's here in the first place, but the pleading look in his eyes that was just so not Bakugou makes him shut up.

Bakugou helped Kirishima up, gauntlets left abandoned as he helps him prop himself up next to one of the walls. Kirishima's legs feel like hell- torn, bloodied, _weak_. He can't move like this, and he knows it's his fault. Bakugou gets up once again, but keeps his hand interlocked with Kirishima's, running a gloved thumb across the back of Kirishima's hand.

"If I'm not going to make it out of there, I'm going to make sure they don't either." he turns toward the door again, jaw set as get avoids Kirishima's gaze, attaching his gauntlets to his arms once again. Kirishima knows what he's about to do, so, pulling on Bakugou's arm, he asks the one thing that his tired mind could form:

"Why?"

Why, why do this for him? Why even bother? Why did he care for him? Why associate himself with someone so _useless_?

"You were my 'unwavering horse,' remember? It's my turn to pay you back." Bakugou doesn't look back, sprinting down the hallways once again, explosions crackling from his palms as he uses them to propel himself forward.

"Wait, Bakugou!"

It was too late; the doors had closed, and all Kirishima could do was scream.

With his eyes snapping open, it was a scream that woke Bakugou up. He jumped up, palms open in case he had to attack. He whipped his head around, scanning his room for any possible threats.

There was no one.

Another anguished scream sounded from outside the door, and Bakugou could feel his heart pounding.

_Kirishima_.

Before he knew it, he was running, leaving his own door ajar in his haste to get to the other boy. Bakugou knew too well of the penalties that came with leaving his room after curfew(including Aizawa forcing him to clean up after his cats. Which, by Bakugou's experience, was absolutely horrible), but at that moment, he gave no shits. He couldn't just leave Kirishima alone- especially if he could be in danger.

In a matter of seconds, he reached Kirishima's door, reaching for the handle before he decided to just go through with it. Pretty much ripping the door from its hinges, Bakugou stormed into the room, nostrils flared, ready to fight. Besides for Kirishima, the room was empty, moonlight streaming in and shedding light on all of Kirishima's posters. However, Kirishima was thrashing in his bed, fists flying as he seemed to fight whoever was in his dream. He was in his hardened state, the rough edges of his skin being highlighted by the light from the window.

Fuck, this wasn't good. Kirishima could hardly last 50 seconds in his unbreakable form, let alone really breathe. He had to do something. Quick.

"Kirishima!" he screamed, shaking the other boys shoulders as he struggled. God, this was too familiar; red eyes looking into his own as he struggled to free himself from his own mind, his hands on another chest as he struggled to even breathe; the daze of it all, and how he seemed to be walking through fog as he struggled to regain his bearings.

Shit, no one deserved to go through nightmares. Kirishima's eyes opened, daze and unfocused as he slowly took in his surroundings. He was breathing erratically, chest heaving up and down, but by the way he was gasping seemed to mean that he wasn't getting enough air. Placing Kirishima's hand to his chest, something so similar to what Kirishima had done to him, Bakugou breathed, feeling the pounding of his own heart coursing through his body.

"Breathe with me."

Fingers wrapping around Bakugou's own, Kirishima inhaled, letting in a shaky breath as he followed Bakugou. Murmuring a few encouraging words, Bakugou continued to kneel next to Kirishima, the other boys hands intertwined with his own as he began to calm down.

Once Kirishima gained enough of his bearings and realized who it was that was holding him, he seemed to collapse on himself, reaching out and pulling bakugou closer, resting his head against the other boy's chest as he let in another shaky inhale. Bakugou let him, running a hand through the other boys hair as they sat there.

It was quiet.

Kirishima pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, using enough force that spots began to illuminate in the blackness of his vision. He gritted his teeth, almost feeling angry at himself. Fuck, he hated being like this; He was tired of them- these nightmares, his incompetence- tired of feeling weak.

"You know I want to protect people, right?"

The words were sudden, whispered, as Kirishima pulled away, looking up at bakugou with fists clenched at his side as he waited for an answer. Bakugou was surprised by the distress on his face, as if He was doubting that something so obvious- such as Kirishima's need to protect people- wasn't legitimate As if he was trying to convince himself that it was the truth.

Bakugou nodded, brow furrowed as he watched Kirishima expression perk slightly, only to fall once more. It was at that moment that Bakugou knew that he was talking about Kamino. Fuck, this wasn't good. Kirishima had done some amazing things back there, but he didn't seem to believe it. In different ways, they had both been through hell and back. And god, they would both be lying if they said that the pain of it didn't screw them over at times.

"I know I can be stubborn, but goddamn it, I didn't want to die." Kirishima says, clenching his fists. suddenly there's a heat in his eyes and he feels like he's going to cry. He's letting them all down, he knows he is. _No_, he wiped a hand across his eyes, he couldn't let himself be seen crying; not when he had promised himself that he would be stronger, that he wouldn't break.

Feeling the comforting hand of Bakugou's on his shoulders, he continued: "Either way, I broke when they needed me the most; I was on the sidelines, while Fatgum protected me." He clenched his fists, not quite meeting bakugou eyes. "I was useless." Brow furrowed, Bakugou looked down at Kirishima, whose face was buried into the crook of his arm.

Anger began to course through his veins, and the familiar itch in the palm of his hands started up once more. But no, he couldn't explode here, even though he wanted to kill whoever the hell made Kirishima feel like this. Kirishima being useless was the biggest fucking lie that he had ever heard. He was the one who managed to debut as a hero only weeks after he got his provisional license.

He was the one who always asked if everyone was okay- and made sure of it whenever there were any doubts. He was the one who always offered a shoulder to cry on. He was the one who hosted all those stupid movie nights. He was the one who never stopped smiling, even if things looked dire. He was the glue that held them all together; the final piece of the puzzle that everyone had been slowly piecing together bit by bit.

1-A wouldn't be the same without Kirishima.

"Don't say that." Bakugou spoke, venom lacing his words due to his anger. He didn't mean to intimidate Kirishima with those words, but the sharp movement at his side meant that he had done just that.

"What?" Looking up from the crook of his arm, Kirishima looked surprised, almost scared at the anger in his words. The word 'villain' flashed once again in Bakugou's mind, and he had to clench his fists just to make sure that he didn't do anything that word hurt either of them.

"I said: don't you fucking say that." the words were quiet, but they were powerful, red eyes piercing into Kirishima's with a look of anger- of disbelief. And, all over again, Kirishima felt like he was going to break.

"Why the fuck are you always so hard on yourself?" Bakugou demanded, hands moving to annunciate his point. "You're worth so much, why is it so hard for you to see that?" Kirishima flinched at his words, but didn't reply, only biting his lip as he turned his head away from Bakugou, finding a sudden interest in his covers, eyes downcast as the thought, the other kneeling by the Kirishima's side, arms out in front of them, almost pleading for some kind of answer.

"It's because i'm scared, Bakugou." Kirishima turned around, eyes wide and watery as he stared Bakugou down, but the sincerity within them was so Kirishima- that Bakugou found himself trapped once again. "I'm fucking scared; scared of seeing my friends dying in front of me while I stand there, helpless. Scared of seeing myself die just because I keep breaking. Scared of you being disappointed in me."

The last words were whispered, and, if it weren't for the total silence in the rest of the dorms, Bakugou probably wouldn't have heard them. Bakugou sighed softly, running a hand through his hair as he stared down at Kirishima, who once again seemed to hunch in on himself, shoulders shaking, as if he was trying to keep himself together.

But, what did all this mean? Fear was apart of a heroes everyday life, so you couldn't let it get the best of you (But Bakugou knows how hard that is; how fear constructs you, binding you to your place. Fear doesn't let you move- doesn't let you _breathe_).

Fear is a force to be reckoned with, and Bakugou knows that you can't just push past it like it's nothing; it's hard to do it alone, but Bakugou would help him break past those barriers, even at the cost of his life. But _shit_, What if Kirishima was giving up on becoming a hero?

"Well, shit- do you still want to be a hero?" Kirishima head snapped up at that, eyes red with tears as the silence was broken. From next to him, arms crossed, Bakugou stared at him. His brow was furrowed, but his eyes were piercing, _glaring_, "More than anything, but how can I become a hero if I couldn't even save anyone?"

"Oh, for fucks sake." Bakugou threw his hands up, a deep sigh exiting from his lungs as he gripped Kirishima's shoulders once more, looking to his eyes again. "You seriously think that you can't? Who was the one who debuted as a hero days after getting his license? Who was the one who saved Fatgum's life?" He asked, words echoing throughout the room due to their heavy weight, weighing down on the both of them as they spoke.

When Kirishima didn't take any notions of moving, Bakugou sighed, removing one of his hands from Kirishima's shoulders to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Eijirou, being a hero isn't about how tough you are; it's how you're able to get back up no matter what, it's how you're able to keep smiling even after all of this garbage." Bakugou placed his other hand on his shoulder, a serious expression on his face as he stared down at Kirishima, the fact that he was on his knees causing him to tower over Kirishima's hunched form.

"So, School Debut man, are you going to keep looking at the bad things, or are you going to smell the motherfucking roses?" Kirishima chuckled at that, wiping a palm across his eyes as he found the courage to finally meet the others eyes.

Bakugou was so _close_\- close enough that Kirishima could count the long lashes that framed his eyes, close enough that he could see the worry within Bakugou's eyes, the way that Bakugou but his lips, anxious for an answer. Close enough that he close enough to kiss him.

_God_, Kirishima wished he could. But no, he couldn't. There was no way that any of that could ever be. Even with their study dates, training sessions, and these midnight encounters, Kirishima knew that it could never be. Seriously, Bakugou was probably the straightest guy that he had ever met. Yikes, why was the world against him?

Kirishima sighed, red eyes trailing up and meeting Bakugous. Red met red in a silent conversation, one pair open and wide, the other analyzing and worried. Without realizing, Kirishima let out a chuckle, finding the irony of the situation too much.

"Mr. Highschool Debut Man, huh? Mina really told you about that?" He curled in on himself, a bitter smile in his face as he remembered, remembered the feeling of doubt and sadness when he was unable to save those girls that one time, remembered that feeling of him not being able to become a hero due to his stupid, non flashy quirk. Yet, here he was, in one of the top hero schools- no, the top hero school. He had made it. But no, he had failed at doing what a hero was supposed to do; save people.

With one dead, and others severely injured just because he couldn't last another 5 fucking seconds, Kirishima knew it was all his fault. Letting out a shaky breath, Kirishima leaned his head against Bakugou's shoulders.

Closing his eyes as he let Bakugou's presence surround him. The wood of his bed frame dug into his back, but he didn't care, only relishing in the feeling of having someone there. For he knew, that with Bakugou, moments like this are rare.

Feeling Kirishima curl up into his shoulder, Bakugou couldn't help but think that he had never seen Kirishina so.. out of it. With his incredibly shitty hair, big smile, and loud mouth, Kirishima had always seemed so big, like something so godly, that everyone just had to have a piece of it. Now, he was just.. Small.

"Shitty hair," Bakugou said, quieter. Leaning over, careful not to shift Kirishima too much as he moved his shoulder, he brushed a hand against his face, cupping his cheek and gazing into his eyes as they sat in silence once more. He didn't say anything else for a long while, opting just to look, eyes revealing all. Worry, frustration, vain, and sincerity all mixed within those scarlet depths, swirling as if clouded- in a daze. Honestly, to Kirishima, the fact that Bakugou was doing this for him was almost enough to make him feel better, all due to the fact that Bakugou didn't just do this for anybody.

Right?

"You're unbreakable." Bakugou whispered, grazing a thumb over his cheek. The words he had said that day were nothing more than the truth. So now, seeing Kirishima like this- so fucking broken, It, pun not intended, broke his heart. He didn't say anything else for a long while, both of them content with basking in each other's presence. It wasn't until Bakugou caught a glimpse of Kirishima's alarm clock- a stupid thing with two buff arms poking out of the sides- and the numbers that shone on it's screen. 3:45am.

Shit, they were going to be wrecked in the morning. Letting out a sigh, Bakugou hesitantly removed his hands from Kirishima's face. "It's late."

Kirishima followed Bakugou's gaze, eyes widening slightly as he read the numbers as well. Gently nudging Kirishima off his shoulder, Bakugou stood up, sliding himself off of Kirishima's bed quietly. Running a hand through his hair, he turned back to Kirishima, who looked wrecked. His eyes were red and tired looking, his hands, though they had stopped being clenched into fists, were taut with tension. Bakugou didn't know what he was dreaming about, or the majority hat he had been through. But, the scene still hurt to see. What could have caused all this?

"You good now?" Bakugou asked, very well knowing the answer as he leaned up against Kirishima's nightstand, arms crossed against his chest. Kirishima blinked, as if surprised by his sudden speech.

At first he looked like he was going to say yes, mouth open to form the words. But then, he stopped, lips pursing in thought. Then he sighed, running a hand through his long hair. "Honestly.. I don't think so."

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?" To any other, the words might have seemed rough- maybe even rude. But Kirishima knew that he was being sincere- after all, he had seen the look- the worry, written all over his normally scowling face.

Kirishima let out a shaky breath, wringing his hands together as he forlornly glanced towards the bed underneath him. What he wanted was obvious, but he couldn't bring himself to say it.

Following Kirishima's gaze, Bakugou sighed, picking himself off of Kirishima's nightstand. "Move over," he grunted, sliding in next to Kirishima before the redhead had the chance to reply.

Kirishima only moved over slightly, not hesitating to latch onto Bakugou the second the other boy was settled. Even from here, Bakugou could feel the erratic beating of Kirishima's heart, the deep breaths he was forcing himself to take, the small shivers that wracked his body when he began to _remember_.

But he didn't say anything, only pulling Kirishima closer to him. It was pretty gay, and neither of them had said 'no homo' but, this was their moment.

"Hey, Bakubro?" The words were quiet, muffled from where Kirishima had his face pressed up against the side of his neck. Suppressing a shiver, Bakugou knew very well where those words would lead to.

"If you're going to do some stupid shit like thank me, you might as well can it." Bakugou whispered, arms around Kirishima's sides as he pulled him closer. They were close, close enough that he could smell the fruity smell of Kirishima's shampoo, close enough that he could feel Kirishima's heart beating- wait, no, that was his own.

Kirishima chuckled, but didn't deny the accusation. "Why, won't accept it?" Bakugou shook his head, "Nah," he rested his chin on top Kirishima's head, wrinkling his nose as the soft strands came to tickle his nose. "Don't want it."

As Kirishima let out another shaky breath, curling in closer to Bakugou's side, Bakugou felt something- the urge to protect. Christ, he was shit with feelings. But the fact they Kirishima made him feel, well, _feelings_ was a spectacle within itself.

Feeling Kirishima take his hand in his own, Bakugou didn't pull back, only placing his cheek on Kirishima's head, smoothing the other boy's hair back. He heard Kirishima let out a small sigh, burying his face into the crook of Bakugou's neck as he began to calm down.

As he felt Kirishima settle beside him, their hands intertwined, Bakugou couldn't help but smile.


	2. Chapter 2

Warm hands were wrapped around Kirishima's back when he woke up. He leaned into the touch, eyes not yet opened as he allowed the embrace to swallow him. Letting out a contented sigh, he nuzzles into the warmth, relishing the feeling as the arms around him tightened, pulling him even closer.

The scent of smoke fills his nose, and Kirishima can't help but find some familiarity within the moment- that that scent was somehow familiar. Blonde hair, slicked back after a training session. Rough hands, calloused and warm from use of his quick. A grim, wild and free as he let's it all out.

It's all _too_ familiar.

There's a mumble from behind him, and the arms around his sides tighten.

That's when it hits him.

Kirishima's eyes flew open, and, with that rapid pounding within his chest, he feels as though his heart is about to burst. Bakugou's eyes are closed, and it seems like he's still asleep (thank god). But, with his arms around Kirishima, it would be almost impossible to move without waking him.

It's warm under the covers, tangled up with each other like they are. Kirishima remembers why exactly he's here.

_He remembered Fatgum's motionless form, blood pooling out underneath him and his torn hoodie. He remembers being forced to run, remembers losing the fight against Rappa and Tengai._

_He remembers Bakugou _

_"If I'm not going to make it out of there, I'm going to make sure they don't either." he turns toward the door again, jaw set as get avoids Kirishima's gaze, attaching his gauntlets to his arms once again. Kirishima knows what he's about to do, So, pulling on Bakugou's arm, he asks the one thing that his tired mind could form._

_**"Why?"**_

_Why, why do this for him? Why even bother? Why did he care for him? Why associate himself with someone so useless? "You were my 'unwavering horse,' remember? It's my turn to pay you back." Bakugou doesn't look back, sprinting down the hallways once again, explosions crackling from his palms as he uses them to propel himself forward._

_"Wait, Bakugou!"_

_It was too late; the doors had closed, and all Kirishima could do was scream._

He shakes his head, resisting the urge to curl in on himself once again. That dream had fucked him up, because it was so close to being real- so close to what actually happened. Had he not gotten in front of Fatgum in time, they wouldn't have been able to tie the fight. It was all too close. He takes a deep breath, and He remembers the panic attack he has, as well as him activating his unbreakable form.. but, mostly, he remembers Bakugou- remembers the rough hand in his own, the hand on his chest, the arms around him.. It was a lot to take in.

Letting out a shaky breath, he turns to look at Bakugou once more. Light colored eyelashes lay over pale cheeks, and blonde hair is scattered across the pillow like some form of halo. Bakugou almost looks to good in the moment, but as Kirishima's stomach rumbles, and the cramp that had settled into his neck set in, Kirishima knew that he had to move.

Shit, this is awkward. He wants to move- he wants to speak, but shit- he can't bring himself to ruin the moment. It was calm, birdsong barely audible over the sound of their breathing. He fights the urge just to go back to sleep, but he knows that Aizawa will probably kick both of their asses if they don't show up to homeroom on time.

Eyes cracking open, he glances toward his nightstand, squinting s he struggles to read his alarm clock- his favourite one (the one with the arms in the sides!). The letters were blurry, but he could make out the small, green letters.

**8:05**

"Shit, Bakugou!" Bakugou only grunted, red eyes barely peeking open as he looks at Kirishima.

Kirishima sighs, not really surprised about his behavior. He reaches over, and peels one of Bakugou's arms from his sides.

He shudders at the sudden lack of warmth, not quite realizing how warm bakugih was (not surprising, considering bakugou did have a quirk that included fire).

Sliding out of bed, Kirishima reaches out and shakes Bakugou's shoulder, ignoring Bakugou's clear displeasure with the concept of waking up. Finally, after 3 minutes and a considerable amount of shaking his arm, Bakugou seemed to have woken up.

"What?" Bakugou grunts out, sitting up and staring at Kirishima, eyes hazy with sleep. He looks remarkably childlike in that moment, his face not scrunched up with his anger for once- but soft, as he reaches up and rubs at his sleepy eyes. Kirishima sucks in a breath, shaking his head as to clear his thoughts before speaking once again.

"It's 8:05, we have to hurry up!" Bakugou's eyes widened, cursing under his breath as he throws the covers off the bed, sliding off the bed without a second thought. This routine seems practiced, and Kirishima wonders just how many times Bakugou has done this before.

Neither of them have time to dwell on just why they were both in his room, instead taking time to change and get their shit together. Bakugou rushes to Kirishima's door, taking a moment to glance back at the redhead before heading back to his room, no doubt to gather his uniform. Bakugou pretty much raced to his room, cursing under his breath as he went.

He nearly tackled a surprised Shouji to the ground as he stepped outside Kirishima's room, the other boy already heading to class. Shit. Oh yeah, that would totally raise some suspicion, but Bakugou couldn't find it within himself to really care. Opening his own door and slamming it shut, Bakugou only had time to throw on his crumpled uniform before rushing out of his room again, backpack in tow as he slams his door shut.

Outside, Kirishima was waiting, fumbling with his tie as he struggled to set it onto his neck. They usually walked to class together, but not usually under such a tight time restraint. Bakugou huffed, checking the time on his phone: **8:17. **Fuck. They didn't have time for this.

The good thing about living in the dorms is that it didn't take long for the students to get to school. But still, They had to hurry. Leaving his room behind him, he strides over to Kirishima, ignoring his confused look.

"Move your hands." He didn't wait for him to comply, pretty much shoving Kirishima's hands out of the way as he reached for the other boys tie. He tried to ignore the way the other boy seemed to be looking at him, his red eyes wide in some kind of surprise. He huffed, fumbling with the fabric for a moment, before setting it into the front of Kirishima's shirt. "You're welcome." He pivots, striding towards the stairwell before kirishima could see his face. Kirishima rushed after him, a happy smile on his face.

"For someone who doesn't wear a tie, you seem to be good at tying it," Kirishima teases, adjusting the tightness of the tie around his neck as they sprint down the stairs. Bakugou only glares at him, not responding.

The truth is, he has always hated the feeling of things around his neck- especially after the slide incident. So, tie be damned. He hasn't worn his since- well, ever. It's probably in the bottom of his drawer somewhere.

They both head out into the dormitory kitchen, Kirishima forlornly glancing at the fridge as they speed past it, not able to spend any extra time to make breakfast. Especially when he's with Bakugou, who's a hella good cook. Like goddamn, is it even legal to be good at so many things?

It isn't until they both set foot on the path towards school when they slow their pace. Trees surround them from both sides, giving them that secluded feeling, even though it's clear that there's probably multiple cameras hidden up in the dense branches.

Kirishima can feel Bakugou's eyes on him as they both walk to class, a slight speed in their steps as they at least attempt to get there on time. Around them, the path is empty, and aside from the sound of their footsteps, it's quiet.

"Kirishima," Bakugou stops shortly in front of the doors, eyes narrowed and analyzing as he begins to speak. Kirishima panics, clearly knowing where this was going.

"So how's this weather, huh?" Kirishima buts in, inwardly wincing at the shitty topic. He really didn't want to do this right now, but, if he really did know Bakugou, then this dude would not stop until he got what he wanted. Bakugou narrows his eyes, clearly suspicious of the quick topic chance.

A short silence follows his words, weighing down on them like a silent burden, and it isn't until Bakugou opens his mouth to speak when Kirishima continues. "I personally think it's rather nice, since it's sunny and all-"

"Ejirou."

His name makes him shut up, mouth snapping shut before he could ramble about sunny weather. Bakugou's staring at him again, a look in his eyes that Kirishima can't decipher. Shit, he likes to think he's good with people, but Bakugou has always been a mystery when it comes done to emotion. Maybe that was why Kirishima liked him so much; it was always a new adventure with Bakugou, be it with you being caught in an onslaught of multiple used of the word 'fuck', or be it with you waking up in the others arms, his toned arms around you and offering you solace. Shit, Kirishima's gay heart couldn't handle the last part.

Kirishima can only sigh, stopping in his path as he turns to look at Bakugou, red eyes tired. "If this is about last night, Bakugou, i'd rather not talk about it."

Bakugou opens his mouth, as if to object, but he stops, clearly sensing Kirishima's discomfort. Kirishima sighs in relief, pulling open the front door to the school. He's about to step in, but a tug at his shirt pulls him back. "You're not alone, you know." the words are sudden- a surprise to Kirishima as he turns back around, foot stopping from where it was raised to step. It was incredibly similar to what Kirishima had said to him, but the words were appreciated.

"You have Raccoon eyes, Pikachu, soy sauce, and me." Bakugou pauses, taking a deep breath, "so, whatever is bothering you be damned, you're not alone."

Bakugou looks up, not even bothering about the limited amount of time they have left anymore.

"I'm going to say this, and I'm only going to say this once," he pauses, looking into Kirishima's eyes, hand on the other boys shoulder as he speaks, Before Bakugou could speak, Mina's words flash in Kirishima's mind, the words she spoke to him when he got back from the internship.

_"Kirishima," Mina looks at him, eyes wide and knowing as she speaks, "are you okay?" _

_Taking a deep breath, he replies, gently shaking Sero's arm off his shoulders. He honestly didn't know, but, based off of everything, he knew he had to change. For the class, for himself, and Bakugou. So he answered with the truth. _

_"I have a long way to go."_

"Eijirou, you'll be okay."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement. And, with Bakugou's hand on his shoulder and that firm look in his eyes, Kirishima believed it. He sucked in a breath, cheeks reddening slightly as he looked into Bakugou's eyes and nodded. Placing his hand on top of Bakugou's, he feels like they're making a promise.

_You'll be okay_

However, none of that stopped the questions when both of them ran into the classroom, 3 minutes late, out of breath with red tinting their cheeks. Needless to say, Aizawa totally kicked their asses.


End file.
